


Entrails in the Oven

by 3seconds



Series: Taxidermy Mouse [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas fluff despite the title, Episode: s03e03 His Last Vow, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Missing Scene, Really not scary or gory at all, Screenplay/Script Format, Sherlolly - Freeform, Sherlolly if you squint, Taxidermy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:07:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21724984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3seconds/pseuds/3seconds
Summary: There’s something in Molly Hooper's past that even Sherlock doesn’t know about.Despite the title, this is a fairly fluffy little Christmas ficlet. Two missing scenes set near the end of HLV (During the time Sherlock is recovering from being shot).
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Series: Taxidermy Mouse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565803
Comments: 26
Kudos: 65
Collections: BBC "Sherlock" for Canon Addicts





	Entrails in the Oven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OhAine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhAine/gifts).



> Inspired by Sherlock’s set designer adding a prop and joking that he gave Molly a [hobby ](https://twitter.com/arwelwjones/status/821159703371718657). I don’t think it ever made it onscreen and I very much doubt the way I went with it is what he meant anyway. This is the second part in this series, but it can be read as a stand-alone. 
> 
> This is not at all the second part to this series that I set out to write. It just sort of happened. Gifting this to [ OhAine ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhAine/pseuds/OhAine) for encouraging me to get the words out of my head. If I’d left them there, this little ficlet would never have happened. Thank you, lovely. <3

**_A street in Central London. Early December, 2014. Nighttime._ ** _This particular street is lined with small offices and posh looking shops. Most have Christmas decorations and fairy lights in their windows. It’s after business hours for most of the shops, so the pavement isn’t crowded._

_Sherlock and Molly slowly make their way down the street side by side. There’s no snow, but the winter chill is evident by the way their breathing fogs the air and by their attire (Sherlock in his coat and scarf and Molly in an oversized jacket and bobbly knitted hat)._

**MOLLY** ( _hesitantly_ ): It’s turning cold, not sure you should be out.

 **SHERLOCK:** Statistically, loads more people die from being in hospital than from catching a chill.

 _Molly gives him a flat look_.

 **SHERLOCK** ( _acquiescing_ ): Just a few more minutes, then we’ll go back. I’m fine.

_He spreads his arms in a gesture meant to demonstrate that he’s fully healed from being shot and the subsequent effects of cardiac arrest but can’t quite pull it off and winces slightly with the movement._

**MOLLY:** Alright, but just a bit further. Heaven forbid John finds out you’ve decamped hospital without permission again.

 **SHERLOCK:** He won’t if you don’t tell him.

_They continue walking. A little further down the street, Sherlock pauses, ostensibly to study a display in a shop window, but in reality because he needs to have a short rest. The window he’s chosen to investigate belongs to a tiny second-hand shop squeezed in between a posh shoe store and a jeweler. A sign above the items in the window proclaims “Trinkets & Tiny Treasures”. Sherlock’s eyes roam over the jumble of mostly rubbish —mismatched teacups, nonfunctional pocket watches, rusted brooches, and odd bric-a-brac— searching for something interesting enough to serve as a feasible excuse for halting._

_Molly comes to stand beside him and points to a small figure on display. It’s a taxidermy mouse posed on top of a tiny model skateboard_.

 **MOLLY:** The mouse looks good, but his position on the board is all wrong. He’s on the wrong foot and too close to the nose. Hard to balance and no way to control the kick like that.

_Sherlock’s brow furrows and he turns away from the window to study Molly._

**MOLLY** ( _seeming to read his question even though her_ _eyes are still fixed on the mouse in the window_ ): I went through a rebellious phase as a teenager, so yeah… ( _she nods and turns to meet Sherlock’s gaze, smiling slightly_ ) Skateboarding. It was the 90s after all.

 _Sherlock realizes he’s gaping, and snaps his mouth shut, turning back to look closer at the mouse. He quickly calculates that she’s correct, the mouse is indeed completely off balance and the shop owner has wedged a bit of cork underneath one side of the skateboard to keep it upright in the display_.

 **MOLLY:** I was always goofy-footed, but I could do some basics, kick-turns and the like. Enough to mostly keep up with the boys… ( _her smile fades and she trails off, caught up in a less pleasant memory_ )

 **SHERLOCK:** Until you tore your Achilles’ tendon.

_Molly shoots him a startled glance and he gives her a lopsided smile before continuing._

**SHERLOCK:** Injured and on painkillers, but still me, remember? I noticed the surgery scar and your slightly uneven gait ages ago. Never had enough data to deduce exactly how it happened.

 **MOLLY:** Well, now you know. ( _Gesturing back to the skateboarding mouse with a smile_ ) Maybe I’ll come back and buy him just to set him right. Toby would love him.

 **SHERLOCK:** Toby would “love him” straight to death.

_Molly laughs, but Sherlock’s breath catches on the last syllable making him cough. She takes him by the arm and turns to walk back the way they came._

**MOLLY:** Alright, speaking of death, that’s plenty of fresh air for you. Back to hospital.

______________

_**About three weeks later. Molly's Flat. Christmas Eve.** The interior is decorated for the holiday with fairy lights around the fireplace, garlands over the doorways and a Christmas tree glittering in the corner of the main room._

_Molly enters and Toby greets her with a meow as she sheds her jacket and bag by the door. She heads into the kitchen and flips on the light, then stops short at what she sees._

_Sitting on her breakfast bar is the skateboarding taxidermy mouse she and Sherlock discovered in the shop window three weeks prior. The mouse’s stance and riding position have been corrected so that he’s now properly balanced. Molly reaches out a finger and gives him a little push, sending him slowly rolling down the worktop to the delight of Toby who sits eagerly waiting to pounce as soon as Molly’s back is turned. Smiling to herself, she pulls out her phone and sends a text._

Thank you! 

_Her phone pings back a reply and she and Sherlock begin a text conversation._

For what? -SH

The gift, Silly! He’s wonderful.

It’s not gift. -SH

What would you call it then, if not a gift?

Décor. Your new kitchen is entirely too spartan for my liking. -SH

_Molly can’t help rolling her eyes before texting him back._

It’s to my liking, which is good because it’s my kitchen.

_The conversation triggers an off-putting memory and Molly wrinkles her nose as she sends a follow-up text._

…and if find entrails in my Breville again, you’ll be buying me a new one again.

Only one way to find out. -SH

_She crosses the kitchen and pulls open the toaster oven to find a sliced baguette covered in cheese waiting inside. As she sets the timer to toast the uncooked cheese bread, her phone pings another text._

You’re always peckish after a long shift. …Also not a gift, and definitely not dinner. -SH

Okay, right. Thank you anyway. It’s nice. Enjoy Christmas with your parents tomorrow.

Don’t remind me. –SH

Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper. –SH

**Author's Note:**

> About the skateboarding bits… They’re based on my own teen years when I was often the odd girl out, hanging out with a bunch of teenaged boys who styled themselves “thrashers”, so I learned a bit about how to do it, although having zero athletic ability, I was pretty rubbish. Of course, this was in the US, in the 80’s (not the 90’s) and I have no idea if skateboarding was even a popular thing in the UK like it was here. So, my apologies if the terminology (or even the whole concept) is completely wrong.
> 
> Also, I never snapped my Achilles’ tendon. I knew someone who did though. Ouch!
> 
> There might very well be another part of this story at some point. As I said up top, this was not the scene I sat down to write and its only real relation to part 1 is that it features another taxidermy mouse. And there’s still another story rambling around in my head. So… ;)


End file.
